Another

Blackie comes onwhile I write aseries of strange haikuShut ‘Em Down by Public Enemystarts up another drink? yesokay so I am here at the wall of speakersthis band is likeDubstep hardcorevery 2008 pissing is out getting it outI like Nike but wait a minutecome on what is this oneand what is this naggingache in my chest?you know I’m a slow crawl storytellergive me a chance I’m honingmy crafthave a ways ta goSam hold tha corda disregard I’ll tryto be the exceptionsay hello the lone Texas ranter says hellowhat’s your penpal accountwe should be for real friendsthen one approaches introducing friend the end is nigh is not just a river…so um fo fumit is not at all fun wakingto such bad memories and insultsthe words and selfself makes a better selfsee as I dodo as I dowatch learnwatch and earnit’s the big pointson the scoreboard exceptionallyexpectant with weight

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You would’ve been 76. Six months after your death, I’m still stunned. I’m just not in touch with what it means to no longer have a mother on the physical plane. There are so many reminders that: “Here is the woman who brought you into this world.” Now you’re gone and I still exist. In […]

A rusted bell rattled and clapped deep inside the kitchen phone. Sabina gave Mother a look, stood up, and stepped in. It was Dr. Aikenson. Sabina leaned against the wall, twirling her right index finger around and in through the long, yellow-stained cord. Aikenson proceeded with his prognosis: “I’m afraid that…”